


Hatchlings

by MEGrymz



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Farm boy Jack, Fluff, Gen, Implied ship I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 03:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14511564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MEGrymz/pseuds/MEGrymz
Summary: Jack Morrison had always been told as a little boy raising chickens not to help a chick struggling to hatch.Gabriel watches him break that rule.





	Hatchlings

Gabriel was death's herald. That didn't mean he couldn't appreciate life.

The chicks drying in the incubator had done well. The largest, the champion of the clutch, had been magnificent. It burst from its shell with vigor, promising to make a fine rooster one day, and the others had followed suit over a period of hours. Each and every one had two eyes and four toes, perfectly formed and perfectly hatched.

Gingerly, he picked away the pieces of eggshell that stuck to their down, freeing them completely from the cage they were born into. They would be lovely.

Still, Jack sat over the first incubator, fingers laced. The lamp light backlit his expression, making it impossible to read, but it was clear that he remained fixated on the remaining egg.

He gazed at it, watching it twitch and roll just millimeters at a time, waiting for the single opening in the shell to push wider.

It didn't.

He whistled to it, softly, and it whistled back.

Gabriel swallowed. "...Jack, it's been almost a full day."

"I know."

Its tiny little beak protruded from the shell, but struggled to proceed any further. Jack reached down, fingertips grazing the shell.

He knew what his father had told him many years ago, when he was young and crying over a dead chick.

_Now, listen to me-- you mustn't help it hatch. Too early, and it will bleed to death. Too late, and it will already have given up._

But there was a tiny window where a broken rule could save its life-- a tiny gamble.

_If it's too weak to hatch, it's too weak to live. It shouldn't survive._

Jack listened to the little cries from inside the shell, and weighed his options.

Gabriel watched.

The tool of choice was a tiny wooden stick, blunt at the end. Jack cracked the shell bit by bit, hoping for the fluttering heartbeat of the chick to pick back up.

_It shouldn't survive._

Slowly, gently, tiny pieces of the shell came away, and the beak pushed further from the opening. The gap widened, and Jack tenderly, carefully, removed the top part of the shell before the soft chirping could get any weaker.

The little thing couldn't even stretch out, but Gabriel watched delicate fingers urge the chick to look up and lift its head.

The only sounds were Jack whistling to the chick like its mother and the chick eagerly imitating him while eggshell crackled and split.

Time crawled on, but so did the chick, and after what felt like forever, the shell fell away. Jack held a tiny, triumphant bird in his palm, and looked up at Gabriel with a light brighter than the sun in his eyes.

_Do not help a hatching egg._

Gabriel wondered who had set that rule.


End file.
